Separate Bedrooms
by rhrshipper23
Summary: Hermione and Ron are visiting the Grangers in order to spread the news of their engagement, but the aftermath of the final battle still weighs heavily in their hearts...and minds. Will the trip bring them closer together or drive them apart?
1. Chapter 1

(This is part one of a short series of completed stories revolving around the engagement of Ron and Hermione. This particular story was written for live journal's flashficrhr community using the prompt: **mouse.)**

* * *

"Separate bedrooms?" Ron whispered incredulously, as he and Hermione carried their luggage upstairs. "But we're engaged."

Hermione glanced back down the stairs to make sure that her parents hadn't yet left the kitchen. "This is their house," she whispered back as they entered her childhood bedroom. "Besides, they don't know that we're engaged yet." She held up her hand to show that her engagement ring was still under a concealment charm.

"Well why didn't we tell them when we walked in the door over an hour ago?" he groused, sitting down at the edge of her bed.

"You know why." Hermione shook her head, taking a seat next to him. "You need to ask my father for his permission to ask me."

"But I already did," he replied, crossing his arms across his chest. "And you said yes."

"But he doesn't know that," Hermione explained. "And it would mean a lot to him. To both of them. It's a muggle tradition to ask for a blessing and since I'm their only child, I don't want to take that away from them."

"Well then let me go down there right now and ask them," he replied. "That way we can change this sleeping arrangement nightmare."

Hermione tugged one of Ron's hands over to her lap, interlacing their fingers. "I don't like sleeping apart any more than you do." She sighed. "But you can't ask him tonight. Even if he gave his blessing right now, they wouldn't expect us to be sleeping together. We each have our own flats."

"Yeah well…it's not like I've been staying at mine these past few months," Ron said with a smirk.

"Ron, we were sleeping together before we were _sleeping together_," she ground out in frustration. Ever since the final battle, Hermione found it hard to sleep alone after months of sharing a tent with Harry and Ron. She had stayed with the Weasleys, sharing a room with Ginny, until she left with Harry to find her parents in Australia. Initially Ron had wanted to go, but Mrs. Weasley was distraught over Fred's death and went into hysterics when Ron announced his intentions to leave. "Besides," Hermione said, "we spent months apart when I left to finish out my last year at Hogwarts."

Ron turned his head away. "I guess I'm just not used it…now."

"Only for tonight," Hermione insisted. She rose from the bed and stood between his open legs, cupping his face in her hands and tilting his head up. "Then I'll lure Mum out of the house tomorrow morning and you and Dad can talk then. Okay?"

Ron sighed and reluctantly nodded.

Hermione smiled and lowered her head, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Besides, we have twenty minutes or so before they come up to say goodnight. Got any ideas on how we can spend the time?"

Ron grinned mischievously and pulled Hermione onto his lap.

* * *

Twenty three and a half minutes later, the floorboard at the top of the stairs gave an ominous groan and Hermione jerked her head away from Ron's neck. "Oh, no!" she cried. 

"What?" Ron asked in a daze.

"My parents," Hermione hissed, pushing at his shoulders.

Ron scrambled backwards, falling off the side of the bed with a loud thump. _"Shite,"_ he swore under his breath, rubbing at his sore hip. He got to his feet, crossed over to her desk and gingerly sat down on the hard wooden chair. Hermione just barely managed to button up her shirt when a gentle knock sounded at her door.

"Hermione, dear?"

"Come in?" Hermione called, smoothing her hair down. The door opened and Mrs. Granger poked her head in.

"Hermione would…oh! Hello, Ronald."

"Er…hi Mrs. Granger," Ron greeted her, hoping that his cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"Ron and I were just discussing our plans for tomorrow," Hermione said, quickly.

"Well I was hoping that we'd head over to the market for a bit," Mrs. Granger replied, her smile falling a bit.

"Of course," Hermione answered. "It's just that Ron isn't all that interested in shopping, so I was thinking that maybe he'd spend the morning here." She paused. "With Dad."

"That's a wonderful idea." Mrs. Granger smiled politely at Ron. "Hermione's told us that you're rather good at playing chess." Ron shrugged modestly. "Then I'm sure you won't mind giving my husband a lesson or two."

"Not at all," Ron agreed.

"Great," said Mrs. Granger. "I'm glad that's settled." She started to back her way out of the doorway, then stopped, giving Hermione a pointed look. "I've turned down the bed in the guest room."

"Right," Hermione said, rising from the bed and bending to pick up Ron's bag. "Come on, Ron. I'll show you where you'll be staying."

"Goodnight," Ron called to Mrs. Granger as Hermione led him to the room at the end of the hall. Hermione ushered him inside and wished her mother goodnight. Mrs. Granger did the same and entered the master bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

"Ron, if you need anything I'll just be down the—" The rest of her sentence was cut off as Ron's lips pressed insistently against her own and Hermione staggered in surprise until her back hit the wall. Her grip on his bag slackened and it fell to the floor with a muted thud just as he managed to close the bedroom door with his foot. His hands were busy tugging her shirt out from her trousers, seeking out skin. "What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"Continuing where we left off," he rasped, as he fingered the clasp of her bra.

Hermione brought her hands up to press gently against his chest. "No, Ron we can't."

He groaned as his hands left her back to settle on her waist. "Yes we can. You can go back to your room then I'll apparate into—"

"No magic," she said quickly.

"What?"

"We can't use magic in their house." Hermione sighed. "They're not comfortable with me doing magic in front of them since Australia."

"But you're a witch," he countered, his voice rising.

"A _muggle_ _born_ witch," she whispered hotly. "And it's their house. I won't upset them any further by using magic while we're here."

Ron almost reminded her that her parents were asleep in their bedroom and wouldn't know that magic was being used. _Almost_. But a small part of his brain realized that stating that particular fact wouldn't go over well with his fiancée and would ultimately lead to one of their infamous rows. Instead he turned away, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and crossed over to the window. "You're right. I didn't mean to push." He paused. "I'm sorry."

Hermione recognized the defeated tone in his voice and the almost imperceptible slump to his shoulders. Her mother really did have horrible timing earlier. She grinned to herself as she remembered just how close Ron had come to losing all control during their heated snog session on her childhood bed. There hadn't been much room on the narrow mattress and Ron wound up mostly on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her body to keep him from hurting her. That left Hermione free to explore his body, much to his growing arousal and frustration, only to come to a crashing halt when footsteps sounded outside the doorway.

The grin slipped from her face as Hermione came up behind him, pressing her cheek against his back and winding her arms around his waist. "No I'm sorry." She kissed the back of his shoulder through his jumper. "I shouldn't have taken things as far as I did back there. It wasn't fair to you."

Ron turned in the circle of her arms, bring his own up to clasp around her shoulders in a loose hug. " _We _got a little carried away." He kissed the tip of her nose playfully. "Go on…off to bed with you," he said, steering her towards the door. "You told your mum that you'd be up early to go shopping with her." He opened the door, peeking around the doorway to make sure that no one was in the hallway, before pulling Hermione close. "Goodnight," he whispered, kissing her.

Hermione lingered for a bit before reluctantly pulling away. "Goodnight," she replied. "Are you going to be all right for the night?" Ron nodded, but Hermione noticed that he looked away while doing so. "Ron?"

His eyes met her. "I'm fine," he assured her. "Really." He kissed her once more. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied earnestly, reaching up to brush a bit of fringe from his eyes.

Ron watched as Hermione made her way down the hall, pausing at her door to smile at him reassuringly before entering the room and pulling the door behind her. He closed his own door and leaned against it, surveying the room before him. Bookcases lined an entire wall; their shelves stacked with various dental and medical journals. A small desk sat in a corner. On top of the desk was a rather odd looking photograph frame. Ron walked over to it; his curiosity peaked by its black, blank display. He knew that muggle pictures remained stationary, but this one didn't seem to hold any picture at all. It wasn't until he noticed that there were little wires connecting the back of it to a rather inconspicuous rectangular box underneath the desk, that Ron realized that it wasn't a photograph at all. There was a similar object in the Grangers' downstairs study. Hermione had called it a computer and spent the better part of ten minutes attempting to explain its function much to Ron's amusement. He didn't quite understand why people would choose 'email' over the dependability of owls.

Ron's attention shifted to the small bed against the far wall. It didn't look much larger than his bed back at the burrow and he wondered if the Grangers ever invited couples overnight. Surely two people couldn't manage to lie side by side comfortably on the narrow mattress without bumping elbows or rolling off onto the floor. Perhaps the sofa downstairs was a fold away. He eyed the pink and yellow floral patterned duvet with disdain. It looked very much like something Luna Lovegood would cover her bed with.

He stripped to his boxers and tee shirt and slipped under the covers. Turning towards the lamp on the bedside table, he stared at it in confusion. He hadn't the slightest idea on how to turn the light off. His father had an entire collection of what he called 'fire bulbs' back in his work shed, but said that they wouldn't work without, what Hermione called, electricity. It was the same power that allowed most muggle contraptions to run. No one ever mentioned just how to shut the electricity off though. Ron cupped his hand over the warm bulb and blew on it. Nothing. Apparently bulbs didn't extinguish the same way candles did. He retrieved his wand from his trousers on the floor and pointed it at the lamp. "Nox," he whispered, mindful of Hermione's parents across the hall. Nothing. Magic didn't work either. A long cord ran from the back of the lamp into a fitting in the wall. He stared at it apprehensively. Hermione had warned him never to stick anything into the slots in the wall. Heeding her advice, Ron left the lamp alone, turning his back to it as he shifted to his side and faced the wall.

Minutes ticked by as Ron tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable in this wholly unfamiliar environment. It was too quiet in the house and, for once in his life Ron craved the sounds that the ghoul made as he trounced around above the attic at the Burrow. Even the flat that he shared with Harry was filled with muted noises that drifted up from the pub situated two floors below. He pulled the blanket over his head to block out the light and sighed.

He'd never get to sleep this way. And part of the problem was that he didn't want to sleep at all. Not here in this strange bed, with its garishly colored duvet and lavender scented linens. Not in this well lit bedroom in this all too quiet house. And most importantly: not alone. Without Hermione asleep at his side, there was no telling if _it _would happen again. It had been so long since they'd slept apart. Months since Hermione moved out of this house and into her new flat. Five months worth of restful, uninterrupted sleep hampered only by the times they'd woken up halfway through the night with a desire for one another. Those memories alone caused certain parts of Ron's anatomy to stir in reaction and he groaned into his pillow as his hand brushed against the front of his boxers. After a moment he pulled his hand away and shifted so that he lay on his stomach. _You can't wank here,_ he thought glumly. _You're a guest in their house. Hermione would pitch a fit if she found out._ His eyes started to drift shut against his will and he struggled half heartedly to resist the pull of sleep. As he gave up the struggle, Ron only hoped that good memories of the present drifting around his head wouldn't be overshadowed by the darker, painful reminders of the past.

* * *

_"NO!"_

The hoarse shout woke Hermione from a dead sleep and she instinctively reached for the wand resting on the bedside table. She stumbled out of bed, bypassing her dressing gown altogether as she hurried out of her room and bolted down the hallway. Her parents' bedroom door open as she passed it but Hermione ignored her father concerned inquiry as she threw open the guest bedroom door and thrust her wand forward ready to face whatever threat awaited her inside. However, it wasn't rogue death eaters lurking in the dark that left her frozen in the doorway. It was Ron, easily seen in the light, straining against the twisted bedding, caught in the throes of a nightmare. His body was bathed in sweat and his face contorted into a grimace as his limbs twitched sporadically.

Hermione rushed forward and perched on the edge of the bed. "Ron," she called softly, trying not to startle him as she gently shook his shoulder. When he didn't wake, she took a firmer hold. "Ron, wake up."

"Hermione?"

Her parents were waiting in the doorway, somewhat hesitantly. "Is everything all right?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Fine," Hermione replied. "Just a nightmare." She turned her attention back to Ron, who was clearly in distress. "Hey come on now," she whispered in his ear. "I need you to wake up."

Ron only groaned in reply, his hands clenching at his side as his head tossed in an agitated fashion. "_No…Hermione_," he moaned and Hermione felt tears well in her eyes at the heart wrenching , helpless sound. She looked apologetically at her parents before bringing her wand up to point at Ron's chest. "Enneverate."

Ron's eyes shot open and he gasped in horror as the very vivid scenes of his nightmare began to fade from his conscious. He was on the verge of panic as his body shook and sweat broke out across the back of his neck. His breathing was fast, so very fast, but it felt like he wasn't pulling in any air at all. He struggled to sit up, and it was only then when he realized that he wasn't alone in the bed as an arm slipped behind him in support. His terrified blue eyes met concerned brown as Hermione cupped his cheek and tilted his head towards her.

"It's okay, Ron," she whispered. "It was just a nightmare."

Ron's eyes darted over to where the Grangers stood just outside the door and he turned his head away in embarrassment. "S-sorry," he stuttered.

"None of that," Hermione replied gently. "You're hyperventilating Ron. You have to calm down." She rubbed his back as he struggled to get his breathing under control. "That's it…even, slow breaths. I know it's hard, but try not to breathe too deeply."

"Perhaps he'd like some tea," Mrs. Granger suggested.

Ron shook his head. "No t-thanks. I'll be f-fine," he gasped. "I'm sorry that I w-woke you up."

"Nothing to apologize for," Mr. Granger replied.

"Why did you leave the light on?" Hermione asked curiously. She knew that Ron hated to sleep with even the tiniest cracks of light finding their way into the bedroom at night.

"Didn't know how to shut it off," he answered, his face flushing a bit darker than it already was.

"Oh," Hermione said. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize. You could have just come to my room to ask."

Ron shrugged in response.

"Well I see that you have things under control," Mrs. Granger said to her daughter. "So we'll leave you to it." The Grangers bid them both another goodnight and returned to their bedroom.

Ron ran his hands through his hair, pressing the heels of his palms into his closed eyes. The visions were gone, but the terror that they brought still left him dizzy and disorientated.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked.

Ron shook his head. "It was nothing really."

"Ron, I couldn't wake you." She picked up her wand from where she had dropped it on the bed and held it up. "I had to use this." She pulled at the neck of his damp shirt and waved her wand over his body.

Ron sighed with relief as she performed a drying charm on his clothes and skin. "You're getting better at nonverbal charms," he praised her.

"Here lay back," Hermione instructed him. Ron complied and settled back against the pillows as Hermione pulled the covers up over his body. "Are you sure that you don't want to talk about it?"

"Not now," he replied, half hoping that she wouldn't ask when.

Hermione nodded somewhat surprised that he'd agree to eventually speak about it instead of flat out refusing. She had never seen him so upset before. Harry had confided in her years back that Ron suffered the odd nightmare or two, usually involving spiders or backfiring pranks that the twins used to use on him. But this…

"Thanks…for waking me up," Ron said, interrupting her wayward thoughts.

She leaned down and indulged in a long kiss, reaffirming that he was okay for the most part. "I'm sorry that you had such a bad dream. Do you think that you'll be able to fall back to sleep?"

Ron nodded, even though sleep was the last thing he wanted to do. "I'll manage." His hand slipped into hers. "Do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Could you lie here?" He watched as her eyes traveled to the open door. "Just for a few moments," he clarified. He shifted over as far as he could without risking falling off the edge and smiled as Hermione settled in next to him. He lifted their entwined hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand. "I feel awful about waking you."

"Don't," Hermione told him firmly. "You can't possibly control what you're going to dream about." She snuggled a bit closer. "When I was younger I used to have nightmares about my teeth."

He laughed. "Teeth?"

"Remember when they were longer," she reminded him. "I use to dream that they'd grow and grow and people would laugh and point at me. It was horrible."

"There was nothing wrong with your teeth before," he told her. "Although I do like how they look now." He turned onto his side and leaned over until their foreheads touched on the pillow. "Now if only my nose wasn't so long."

"I love your nose," Hermione said. "I love everything about you, Ronald Weasley."

Ron grinned and playfully rubbed his nose against hers. _"Everything?"_ He asked, suggestively.

"Prat," she whispered, wiping the smirk off his face by kissing him again. She pulled back, unable to stifle a yawn as the late hour made itself known.

"You should go back to your room," Ron said. "I didn't mean to keep you up so late."

"Stop apologizing," Hermione retorted, but nonetheless slid off of the bed. She regarded him curiously as he switched pillows.

"Smells like you," he said when he caught her looking at him. "Smells like home."

Hermione was torn. A part of her wanted to slip back into bed with him, her parents' opinions be damned. Ron's words touched her in a way that truly rang true to who she was and who they were as a couple. Just as home wasn't so much a place than it was that idea of being with him, Hermione realized how empty she felt when she had gone to bed earlier. But on the other, more practical hand, there were only a few more hours until morning and it seemed equally silly to upset her parents by choosing this moment to rebel against their rules. She had hurt them immensely by modifying their memories and while they were slowly knitting their relationship back together, Hermione was determined not to make things difficult for her parents.

So it was with a heavy heart that Hermione started to back out of the room. She paused at the switch on the wall near the door. "Want me to shut the light off?"

Ron thought for moment, before shaking his head. "Er…no…leave it on." He watched as she pulled the door closed and heard her retreating footsteps down the hall. Hermione had said that he couldn't control what he dreamt about, but he knew exactly what it would be. That's how they all were. Not that she knew. Not that he'd ever tell her. The war against Voldemort left all the survivors with haunting memories, some worse than others. But his wouldn't become hers; he'd make sure of it. Tomorrow he would ask Hermione's father's blessing to marry her. And then they'd be able to sleep in the same bed for the remainder of their visit. It would put an end to the nightmares because they never came when she slept by his side.

Ron shifted onto his left side, facing away from the door. He lifted his hand and touched the wall, tracing his shadow cast by the light with his finger. He absolutely hated to sleep with the light on, so it was good that he asked Hermione to leave it be. He knew that the nightmare would be waiting for him once he slipped back to sleep. The only solution was to stay awake.

* * *

Hermione returned back to her room, settling under the covers. Sleep remained elusive as she thought back to Ron's odd behavior. "He hates to leave the light on," she whispered aloud. "He pitches a fit if I leave the hall lit during the night. Why would he…unless he wasn't planning to go back to sleep at all." Hermione shook her head at the idea and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. _2:58_. Ron was difficult enough to rouse after getting a full eight hours of sleep. She couldn't imagine how he'd be after attempting to stay awake half the night. "He can't," she decided. "He'll be in a foul mood all day and won't pluck up the nerve to talk to Dad." There really was only one thing to do, Hermione realized. Slipping once again out of bed, she whispered an apology in her parents' direction and turned on the spot, disappearing with a soft pop.

* * *

Ron heard the familiar sound of apparating but before he could turn, the room was plunged into darkness. "Wha…who?" 

"Shh," whispered Hermione as she crossed the room and drew near. "Budge up."

Ron moved over a bit and felt the blankets lift behind him and Hermione slip onto the mattress. He started to turn around, but she pressed on his shoulder to stop him.

"Don't move," she said quietly. "There isn't much room." She slipped her arm under his and rested it against his chest.

"What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep," she answered.

"But your parents…"

"Are asleep in the other room," she interrupted quietly.

"I…I'm not really tired," he confessed. "I don't think I can get back to sleep."

"I know," she replied, leaning forward to kiss the back of his neck. "I can help you with that."

"Help?" He asked. "How in the world can you do… _Hermione!_ " He gasped as she slipped her hand under his tee shirt. "What are you doing?"

"I thought it was quite obvious," she teased, as her hand moved through the sparse ginger hairs spattered across his chest before tracing the thicker line that dipped south.

"We can't," Ron groaned, even as body woke in response to her ministrations.

"Like you said before," she whispered in his ear," we're engaged."

"We won't be if you're parents catch us," he hissed as Hermione's finger circled his navel.

She caught the shell of his ear in her teeth and bit down gently. "You'll just have to be quiet, then." Her hand slipped under the waistband of his boxers. "Can you be as quiet as a mouse, Ron?"

Ron bit off a strangled moan as her hand closed around him. "Squeak."


	2. Author's Note

OK... this site is trying VERY hard to prevent me from forwarding the web address. Maybe it'll work this way

I apologize in advance because I didn't realize that the site found a way to ruin my latest attempt to pass along the link. So forget livejournal. It was easier and less of a headache to just create a website and post it there, haha.

the address is: http://web.mac (dot com)

/cr2307/Site/Welcome.html

If that doesn't work, email me privately (not through this site as it doesn't allow you to post web addresses)

you can reach me at cr2307 (at) mac (dot com)


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